


Devil May Care

by legendarytobes



Series: the devil and trixie espinoza [6]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, Body Horror, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Step-Devil, Step-Satan, Trixie knows, Whump, adult trixie, devil body, full devil, post 3.24 a devil of my word
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-26 16:14:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20933066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legendarytobes/pseuds/legendarytobes
Summary: Lucifer deals with the implications of what Michael has revealed to him about the true nature of miracles like Chloe and Trixie. Meanwhile, Trixie plans to take Lucifer for some fun at the abandoned Six Flags/Jazz Land outside of the city.





	Devil May Care

**Author's Note:**

> Part six of the related set of stories starting with "The Devil and Trixie Espinoza."

**The Devil May Care**

“He’s avoiding me.” Trixie hated admitting the inevitable---and it was not defeat---but she hated the fact that she couldn’t make any other excuses for Lucifer’s behavior the last week. “Stupid everything. First Constantine wants him to send me back to Texas, and then his brother _had_ to have said something.”

Taka sighed but then turned her attention to a customer. It was Friday morning in Jackson Square and their little table was lined up between voodoo priestesses, Tarot readers (apparently all fake per the Prince of Darkness), street portrait artists, and a few jazz musicians busking. Taka’s bracelets made from colorful glass beads strung in a dazzling array of patterns was just a fraction of the wares in the square today. However, she was popular. So, the demon had been mainly focused on the customers all morning.

It was probably selfish of Trixie to expect the demoness to commiserate on Lucifer’s drama queen behavior. Although Taka had worked for him back in Hell for millennia, clearly she had to understand how mercurial and, sometimes, downright crappy Luci could be with his flouncing.

Taka finished the purchase and then focused her gaze back on her. “Kid, he’s not talking to _any_ of us. He’s like that, you know. I mean, he wasn’t back home, but this isn’t home, is it? He has good months and bad months, and sometimes he gets in moods and won’t leave his floors for weeks. Clearly, seeing his twin? Not the best thing for his peace of mind, which duh since all angels are such dicks. Besides, he has to sort of stay hidden while the contractors finish with the mess that used to be his main living room and the balcony anyway. It’s so not about just you.”

“I didn’t mean to make it sound like I was super self-absorbed.” Trixie lowered her voice and leaned up to Taka’s ear, even if like all demons, she had excellent hearing anyway. “I mean, I figure some of this is about whatever Michael told Luci about Miracles, you know? So, it _feels _like it’s my fault.”

Taka leaned back. “Way to be discreet, kiddo. However, sometimes Lucifer just needs a break. It’s why we have a few different shows for the parade. Honestly, I like it when he’s not there because then usually, when she’s in town, Maze and I get to be the main sparring event. It’s fun.”

“I just…”

“You knew him Before, and that’s something, but you’ve only been crossing our path in New Orleans for about seven weeks. There are total ebbs and flows to how the boss deals or, well, doesn’t with things. I bet you when the humans are out of his personal space and everything’s fixed completely, he’ll be less bummed. It might not be all because of whatever Michael said.”

Trixie tried to smile but it didn’t quite work. “I guess, but he’s not…I mean he did at least hook his landline up on his top floor, but I can only get him to talk for like two minutes and then he has to go, which, okay, not putting a fine point on it but why? Not like he has anywhere he’s voluntarily going currently. I _know_ I’m being blown off. I mean, you’re the one who got stuck with babysitting me duty all week cause he won’t switch shifts while Maze is bounty hunting.”

Taka narrowed her eyes. “First, it’s called _bodyguard duty_. I’m in it for the chance to shred some leeches and because, even if you have some freak poker powers---”

“Also called observational skills.”

“Whatever, you’re pretty fun for a human, or, well, I guess something a bit more than but still. I’d do this anyway. I’m pretty bored with Maze in Birmingham so I love the distraction.”

“Yeah, but I just would feel better if he’d talk to me. More than a quick probe on how my classes are going, and that’s about it. It just feels wrong.”

“And the construction stuff will end, and he’ll perk up again. It’s been a long ten years, Trix. Trust me. The Lilim have learned to just ride it out. He always gets back on an upswing. It’s just been…it’s _not _about you.”

She sighed and picked up her water bottle. It was only late February, but the heat was starting to creep back into the Quarter. It was already seventy and not even noon. After a short but strong winter, she wasn’t used to that yet, especially in her sweater. She guzzled some down greedily and then spoke, “Look, I was the super weird kid when I moved to Austin. I mean, until I figured out not to, I talked like way, way too much about the Devil and demons and all of Maze’s cool stories. I was blown off _a lot_ on the playground or not invited for whatever bullshit reason to my classmates’ sleepovers. I know what it’s like when being avoided is personal.” She drank a bit more before tightening the cap on her bottle. “And Luci’s avoiding me.”

“I can talk to him, and, believe me, when Maze gets back, she’ll really talk to him. Probably with knives.”

“I…maybe if you just double-checked on him. I don’t know why I have to keep reminding you people that knives aren’t the default way to have a conversation.”

Taka grinned. “They are always the first part of a successful conversation. Besides, be real, even my idiot brothers have noticed. Our lord is totally in your pocket. You show up and he’s fun to be around. Whatever this is? It’s a bump in the road. One clearly caused by too much time with his asshat twin. It’s not you, Trix.”

She laughed. “‘Lord?’ He must really hate that.”

“That’s what the Lilim do…well, except Mazikeen. She’s special. Personal bodyguard and now just more leeway. Not gonna burst your bubble here, but if you didn’t show some deference back home…it wasn’t good. So just to be on the polite and safe side, ‘boss’ or ‘lord’ works. Anyway, Lucifer totally adores you. It’s like you’re his new favorite puppy or something.”

“That’s actually not a flattering analogy.”

“Whatever,” she said, smiling at the next customer sidling up to the stand. “He’s dealing with too many humans in his apartment and Michael fallout. Trix, it’s not you.” With that, Taka turned her full attention to the little old lady who’d come up to check out her jewelry.

Trixie leaned back in her folding chair and picked back up her copy of _Como Agua Para Chocolate_. School still existed, even when the rest of her freaky life was going pear shaped, after all. Some miracle she was. If being blessed or divinely inspired or whatever didn’t have any upsides, then what was even the damn point?

**

“Hey, Trixie-babe, how are you really doing? You should be out having fun.”

“Well, you did insist that I have a rigid call schedule, so I’ve been checking in for the past hour or so like you wanted, Mom.”

“Yeah, but it’s Friday, and there’s nothing to do with your sisters at nine p.m.? Dad and I wanted to check in regularly after we couldn’t get you. As long as you’re not drinking underage, you should still be out having fun. College is one of the best times of your life, you know? At least that’s what Dad always said. Not exactly something you get onset while filming stuff.”

Trixie sighed and leaned back on her bed. Off to her side, Beelz was sleeping soundly in his little hammock. She could barely make out the red of his fur from where she sat. “It is fun. I just…a friend and I had a fight, I think? Well, it’s not even a fight because I have no idea what I did to make him mad. He just sort of, I dunno, stopped wanting to talk to me. It’s super annoying. But tomorrow I should be heading out to the karaoke mixer with Upsilon Delta so that’ll be fun. No one can have a bad time belting ‘Let It Go,’” she finished.

She wasn’t sure if even alluding to her problems with Lucifer with her mom was a smart idea. No, scratch it, it so wasn’t. But Maze wasn’t getting back from her bounty hunt till Sunday, and Taka clearly didn’t think it was a big deal. It wasn’t like she ever tried to explain to her sisters about the “townies” she knew because after the week of gifts and the great flower debacle, most of them pretty much assumed Luci was stalking her. Which, okay, not true, but it hadn’t made him look the most sane or practical.

Which, okay, _definitely _true.

Her mom hummed a bit on the other line as she puzzled through Trixie’s question. “Monkey, I learned the hard way a few times about guys. If they don’t want to be honest with you, then there’s a reason, and it’s never something you can fix for them. I mean, I really love your dad but back with all the Palmetto drama, he was acting shady and blowing things off, and I _should _have known, but I didn’t. We’re good now, but you have to…sometimes you have to let things go.”

“I know, but he’s just a friend, Mom.” Ugh, so not anything _more_. “And he’s had a bad couple of weeks, and he’s isolating himself and---”

“You’re at Tulane for you. You’re there because you want to be a doctor and I hope you’re still taking all your schoolwork seriously.”

“I am!” Although her bio midterm had not gone great. A B- wasn’t the end of her world, but she’d have to double time it to pull it up, she hoped, by the end of the semester. Her mom wasn’t completely wrong. Her life as a student, hers as a sorority girl, and the side job, somehow, as miracle and Devil-sitter didn’t mesh well. Or at all. “I just…don’t you ever give people a second chance? I mean, yeah, it hurts I’m being blown off, but I know there’s a bigger reason for it that he’s just not telling me.”

Her mom sighed on the other end. “Monkey, sometimes you can give people too many chances. Sometimes, they show you _exactly_ who they are and put up all the red flags. Like, for example, sometimes if you feel something’s not quite right with your fiancé, better to just say ‘no’ before he sends you into a death trap and…ugh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to talk about Marcus.”

“You never do.”

“I did for a year solid with the precinct-mandated counselor,” she corrected. “Austin wouldn’t take me until I did some serious work about the Sinnerman fallout. After that? I like keeping it in this box where I just don’t think about it. I was way off about Marcus, and if I’d been smarter or actually listened to my doubts just once…maybe Charlotte would still be alive.” She sighed on the other end. “Honestly, I’ve learned that you can’t fix people. You can only see if they’ll fix themselves. Like I said, you’re at Tulane for school and to have good times with your sisters and your friends who don’t drain you. I…there’s this expression.”

“‘K, following.”  


“It goes, ‘When someone tells you who they are, believe them.’ Monkey, I had people telling me that in different ways more than once. I blew all the red flags off.”

“With Marcus?”  


“No, someone else, and if I’d just listened early on, well, I’d have skipped out on a ton of nightmares. Don’t break yourself into pieces over a guy pushing you away, Monkey. It never ends well.”

“_Friend_, Mom, totally different. It’s just…I know who he is. He’s just having a bad time.”

“Do you really though? You’ve barely been in New Orleans six months. People can hide a lot from each other, probably _everything_.”

“That’s the cop in you talking.”

“I wish it were. Just go out tomorrow and have some fun. If that guy needs help, then you aren’t his only friend, right?”

Trixie thought on Maze and the rest of the Lilim and huffed a bit. “Well, no but---”

“Then, let them handle it. You’re not a free therapist, Trix. Okay? Trust me, if someone starts acting squirrely and stringing you out, it’s definitely time to cut and run.”

Trixie clamped her jaw shut hard and waited until the suicidal urge to be snarky passed. Her first instinct had been to say, _Oh, like when we fled L.A.?_, but that was an old fight she’d stopped being snippy about by seventh grade and when she realized she was never moving back home. And yet, her mom had cut and run, hadn’t even _tried_. Trixie didn’t want to do that, and, to be fair, it was a different situation. She _knew_, and she’d always known everything about demons and hell and the Devil. It was just something had happened with Michael, and if she could get Lucifer to tell her, then he’d stop avoiding her completely.

That was all; it had to be.

“Monkey?”

“I…you’re right, Mom. I can enjoy being past exams by getting my karaoke on tomorrow. I love you. Love dad and Abuela Minnie and Abuelo Hernán too. Talk tomorrow?”

“Always, Monkey, get some good rest.”

She sighed after she clicked off the phone. Rest wasn’t something that was coming easily these days either. After being in Esmée’s clutches, Trixie tended to have nightmares about the vampires---about how one look rendered her paralyzed, the fetid stench of their breath, and the prick of fangs. But it was worse than that because being captured reminded her so much of back with Malcolm so now her dreams ran a gamut from not just leeches but to things that had never happened with Malcolm, with visions of her mom shot clean through the head or of him training the gun on her. Of Lucifer not showing up in time to take the brunt of it.

Somehow, as bad as being paralyzed by Esmée’s glare at been, all the twisted dreams of what could have been with Malcolm were far worse. He was just human after all, and no matter what she’d seen second hand or what stories her parents had brought (very filtered) home from work, Trixie would never understand human evil. Demons or monsters, okay made sense. Why someone would turn as cruel toward a child like Malcolm had, even if being in Hell was his so-called excuse, was inscrutable.

Curling into a ball on her side, Trixie hugged her ridiculous and impractical teddy bear---or tried to as it was so massive---to her chest and closed her eyes. She’d figure everything out. Of course, she would. Trixie Espinoza wasn’t the daughter of two detectives for nothing.  
**

“Hey! You know, Charlie Martin is eight and he’s way, way more mature than you, I bet,” Trixie stomped across the expanse of Lucifer’s bedroom and sat on the foot of the bed.

Granted, the bedroom itself only had the massive king+ bed in it, but what it didn’t have was a devil. Oh no, that bastion of maturity was holed up in his bathroom as if she’d be stumped by that move and just leave.

Lucifer half-huffed and half-growled on the other side of bathroom alcove. “Beatrice, I’m in no mood for visitors.”

“Oh, I’ve freaking noticed. Do you even know what day it is?”

“Thursday?” he said, seeming genuinely convinced it was.

“It’s Saturday afternoon. Maze is going to be back tomorrow, but you’re still avoiding me. You think I can’t tell? Well, the construction guys totally finished your middle floor cause the fear of God or someone else was clearly put in them, and you have no excuses about being worried one of them might oh-so-woe-as-me stumble on you.”

“You do know, urchin, that when humans _aren’t_ expecting to see me, that my appearance tends to drive them mad. Please, feel free to Google a man named ‘Jimmy Barnes’ any time. You happen to be miracle-resistant to the otherworldly, and humans expecting a show are able to handle what they assume must be a costume. Well, most of them. I suppose Gretchen the waitress quit to salvage her sanity.”

“Okay,” she said, flopping onto her back on the ridiculously comfy mattress. “You’re very fearsome, got it. They’re still done so you don’t have that worry. And I’m here so we could just hang. I mean, yeah, Ez is getting the bar ready so if I needed to be sat by anyone not you, I’m safe. It’s just…we haven’t even seen each other since Michael, and that’s ridiculous.”

“Urchin…” Lucifer warned, his voice a low rumble.

It would work better on anyone else. She’d reached her bullshit limit with him again. “You promised, and you don’t break those.”

“I promised never to scream at you again and send you away as I did on our first meeting. I have not. I’m merely resting now and would like some privacy.”

“You want to wallow and hole up, Luci, use the right words.”

That got a reaction at least. He stalked out of the bathroom---fully dressed of course so her hunch had been right, and he’d been brooding probably just on the tile floor to spite her---and stopped by the right side of the bed. His eyes flashed brilliantly with hellfire and, clearly, she’d hit a nerve. Good. He’d been pissing her off all week. He should get to feel a fraction of her frustration back.

“My twin, while vowing to be helpful and I believe that since angels cannot break oaths ever, has made my life infinitely more complicated. Sometimes, child, my behavior is not about you.” She didn’t even know his eyes could flame that brightly as he regarded her. “In fact, very little of my life needs to deal with miracles.”

Furious, she hopped up and set her hands on her hips. “You mean, you’ve just decided to pawn me off on whichever Lilim will take care of me. God, maybe I should just go back to Austin.”

“Perhaps that would be best if you can arrange a transfer for next year. We all know that this city is no good for you.” A low rumble escaped his throat. “That I’m hardly good for you.”

“And my miracle-ness? I just forget that too.”  


“I would suggest have you any passions or talents as John-O droned on about, that you simply stop them cold and avoid them until your thirty-third birthday. In fourteen years or so, you won’t be able to be a real miracle at all. If you had any scintilla of intelligence in your head, Beatrice, you’d do as you’re told and survive as your mother has.”

“Well, she doesn’t know, does she?”

“And I was foolish to tell you as much, either.” His wings flared with his irritation. “I’m serious this time. I release you from any obligation to me. Maze and the Lilim will care for you until you return to Austin. After that, you would be wise to never think of me or what you truly are again.” He held out both hands to her, palms flat and claws splayed out for her to see. “You could be mostly normal, urchin. Why in Dad’s name wouldn’t you do that?”

“Because I’m not and---”

“Trust me,” He said, turning back to his alcove. “Being whatever the fuck I am isn’t worth it, and neither is being _other_ in general. You’ve had a good look at Constantine. Did he look especially happy being a warlock?”  


“Well, no, but that guy’s an ass.”  


“And did my brother not look harried and exhausted, even for an archangel?”

“Maybe a little, but I---”

“The world I live in spits us all out. It grinds through humans faster and miracles fastest of all, but it wears us all down in time. Run, Beatrice, for your own sake, and don’t come back.”

“If this is because of Miss Charlotte…”

He rounded back on her and his eyes were so bright they almost hurt to look at. “It is not. I merely cannot allow myself to be around miracles any longer. I wish you and your mother well, truly I do, but I cannot be the one to protect you, offspring.”

“It’s not about that. You said that I could learn to train, and maybe I have a really kickass ability. You don’t know that I don’t! Maybe if I figured it out, you’d be coming to me for help and not the other way around.”

“Perhaps, but the track records of the others did not indicate that is the case.”

She glared up at him and strode towards Lucifer until she was so close that she could feel his breath ruffling her hair. “And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“You’re a hot mess, Lucifer.”

“No, really? I hadn’t noticed.”

“I’m serious. You’re a real pain in the ass and you have mood swings like whoa and you can be so dramatic and really mean, but you’re my friend, and I’m not walking away from that.”

“Your mother did.”

“I’m not her!”

He shook his head and sighed. She watched as his eyes dimmed to barely a flicker and his wings drooped to the floor. “She’s smarter than you are, Beatrice. I can’t…you need to leave because I’m not dragging you down into _His_ games with me.”

“Michael’s?” she blinked, completely lost.

“My _Father’s_. Please, just go down to the bar and let Ezzekeen care for you. The Lilim can watch you, and I’m sure if I ask Dr. Pachinsky rather nicely, he’ll be happy to help you figure out how to transfer for your safety to a school back home.”  


“I’m not scared of your Dad,” she said, but it came out as a small croak. Even she knew that going up against God, should He ever bother to show up again, wasn’t possible. But she didn’t want to lose her argument.

Lucifer laughed, but it was far from pleasant. “You should be. I was His favorite son once, and this is what He’s done to me _since_. I don’t want to know what He’d do to you, spawn. You’re foolish enough to smack warlocks in mid-spell and to threaten half the demiurge.” He frowned and thought better of it. “Actually, you’ve been pretty mad with me today, so we’ll round it up to threatening all of the demiurge.”  


“You deserve it,” she bit back.

“But you can’t get away with that. Michael’s an angel of his word, and I care for you, which is the crux of this whole sodding problem. Even old John-O was more amused than intimidated, Beatrice. Trust me. If Father ever returns, the Almighty Presence will _not_ find it charming that his miracle is so mouthy.” Lucifer’s wings shuddered behind him. “And I’ve no interest in seeing how he’d punish you. I couldn’t bear it. So, please, just run. Do the smart thing. You might resent your mother for it---”

“I…I don’t even know anymore,” she admitted, slouching as the fight seemed to drain out of her.

“But it has kept her alive and unbothered by either the bullshit that follows me around or anything otherworldly. I…” he turned away again and stomped back to his bathroom. The coward. “…go down the bar and wait. I can’t do this any longer.”

He settled back in his last refuge, the last place in _Tenebrae_ to hide, and Trixie forced herself not to follow. She had her answer, and it wasn’t what she wanted, but she wasn’t sure she could fight the universe any longer. Her mom wanted her to focus on school and sorority shit and everything normal. Lucifer wanted her gone because Michael had definitely said _something_, and he was (okay fair) rightfully scared of his Father’s wrath. And Trixie? She was only nineteen, and she didn’t want to die, and she didn’t want to piss God off enough to what? Vaporize her? Was that a thing? Would He do worse even if He’d helped to make her?

“Okay, I’m going, but this really sucks!”

Nothing answered her as she trudged back down the stairs.  
**

“I don’t want to be a thimble. What purpose would that serve, urchin. I am clearly a top hat, so you must hand it over.”

Conniving brown eyes bored into his own. Beatrice removed the lollipop from her mouth and considered him. He was the (retired) Lord of Hell. He was not about to be played by a child. “It’s going to cost you, Lucifer.”

He glanced across the board at the Detective who was grinning just as slyly. “She’s right. You can’t just get something for nothing. I mean, isn’t that the whole point of your favors. Everything has a price.”  


Lucifer grumbled and sat up. “Fine, urchin, explain your price, and I’ll mull it over.”

Trixie beamed up at him as she hopped to her feet with such speed that Lucifer wasn’t completely convinced that she was fully human. “Mom has face paint on, and she did mine. You don’t have anything at all.”

“I am not going to paint my face.”

“One ladybug on the cheek, and you can have the top hat, your choice.”

He turned toward the Detective, who looked exceptionally lovely with her hair down and loose and her expression soft. She was always so dour at work. “Surely, you cannot support your offspring blackmailing me.”

“I’m not,” Beatrice countered, rummaging on the counter for her face painting supplies. “You want something, and I want something. So, it’s like Mom said, we should make a deal.”

“I will not have a ladybug on my cheek.”  


Trixie frowned even as she sidled up next to him. “What about a heart? I can do purple!”

“Assuredly not. The Devil does not deal with hearts, unless they are ripped fresh from a sinner’s chest.”

“Cool!” Trixie exclaimed.

“Lucifer, that’s not appropriate,” the Detective said, hitting him on the shoulder.

“Okay, what about a unicorn with mostly blue hair. Then you can have the top hat today and the next two times we play.”

“Three times total?” Lucifer asked, his interest piqued.  


“I think that’s a pretty good deal,” Trixie continued. “What do you say? Going once…going twice…”

Lucifer settled himself down into a cross-legged position on the floor and forced out a theatrical sigh. “Very well, child, you drive a hard bargain, but I am quite amenable.” Draw away as you will.”

“Great!” she squealed beside him.

Lucifer tried to ignore the way her screech assaulted his sensitive ears. “Spawn, try not render me deaf, or the deal will be off.”  


“I’m sorry,” she confessed, as she dabbed her paintbrush into the first bit of paint.

He closed his eyes and, despite the indignity about to be thrust upon him, Lucifer relaxed. The face paint was cool but the sensation of it being brushed across his cheek was rather pleasant. He was used to being touched of course. Last year, they’d had a case where he’d had the bulk of a month’s lovers paraded for questioning at the station. Oh yes, he was no stranger to so many things. But this was different. It was familial and friendly. It was just the tickle of a brush against his skin, but also a touch without the expectation of anything _back_ from him. He so rarely got that, and it made him relax and smile, just as the tiny touches against his back or shoulder that her mother gave her sometimes at work warmed him as well.

They expected no quid pro quo here, outside of the top hat’s ownership. It was more than he ever got anywhere else, especially at _Lux_.

Soon though, Beatrice stopped in mid-stroke. “It’s not right.”

“Well, urchin,” he said, and was his voice deeper than usual? “If you need to erase and start over, then I assume that is fairly covered in our deal.”

“Mom, come here. His skin’s all weird. It’s cracking.”

_Cracking? Dear Dad no…_

Lucifer’s eyes snapped open in an instant and he stepped back from both the spawn and the Detective. But now that Beatrice had drawn attention to it---and how could that even be possible; his face was gone---he could feel the flames springing to life across his countenance again, the cracking of flesh and the whiff or Sulphur as Hellfire consumed him once again. And fuck it, he’d taken off his shoes and was stumbling in his damn dress socks as he tried sprinting for the door. He slid on the hardwood and fell.

And still he burned.

Lucifer moaned, his head actually aching because of the Detective’s presence, as he desperately shoved his hands over his face. “Don’t look.”

The Detective and Beatrice stampeded across the apartment and skidded to a stop before him. He could feel the raw skin of his hands too, and they’d _never_ been like that before. Not once, but when his face returned, apparently everything devilish about him returned with a vengeance.

Small hands were on his shoulder, and he turned to his right and tried to bury everything away from Beatrice. She was so young, and she couldn’t see. It had driven Jimmy Barnes among others mad. It would ruin a nine-year-old. It wouldn’t do much better for the Detective, whether she were a miracle or not. And yes, he’d meant to tell her---wanted to tell her---and keep going forwards but not like this.

Not by sullying her home.

Beatrice was shaking his shoulder even as the Detective was calling his name beside him. “Lucifer! Lucifer! Can you hear me?” Soft hands reached out for his own and traced the ruined, burned skin there for an instant before pulling back. “What’s going on?”

“I can explain,” he offered, although he wasn’t sure what would make her any more amenable to his “metaphors” this time. Dr. Linda hadn’t exactly taken a surprise glimpse of his actual visage very well. He just…not in front of the spawn too. “Please, take Beatrice to bed, and I’ll explain everything.”

And no, it was _not_ his imagination that his voice was rougher and more gravely than usual.

Small hands clutched his shoulder frantically. “Mommy, he’s hurt.”

Just as suddenly, Beatrice was pulled back and the loss of contact burned worse than his red skin ever had. He didn’t remove his hands from his face but spread his fingers just enough to peek through the space.

The Detective had Beatrice pushed behind her body now and her gun was drawn. How had he missed that familiar sound even in his panic. “What are you?”

Oh, and they’d been here before, hadn’t they? But now she knew she could hurt him and the glare in her eyes---the fear and anger---indicated she wouldn’t aim for the leg this time.

Lucifer stood up shakily, and turned to face them both last, even though he’d been caught red-faced, as it were. He held up his hands and looked between them. His breath caught in his throat at the tears streaming down the spawn’s face and the way she shrieked and buried her face in her mother’s back when she saw his eyes. It was only natural after all. But it was viewing the Detective with her gun still drawn on him and with the determined set of her jaw that truly broke him. His heart shattered into a thousand pieces because he had hoped she could understand…but of course she couldn’t.

No one ever had.

“Detective, please, I never lied to you.”

_Technically_.

But, Dear Dad, had he omitted far too much over their relationship.

“You’re really the Devil.”

“Well, it’s more like a job description, and I’m retired now so…” he trailed off lamely.

Behind the Detective, Beatrice continued to shiver and keen. “Mommy, make him go away.”

He tried to take one step toward them, but the Detective cocked her gun. “Don’t, Lucifer. Don’t take another step.”

His eyes raked over her once more, and her eyes were so cold. The glint of light on her bullet necklace shot fresh pain through his shattered heart. It wasn’t so funny an in-joke any longer, was it?

“I do not mean either of you harm. I did always mean to explain, believe me I did, but I couldn’t summon this face for a while and now, well, I wish that it had happened in any other way, Chloe, please believe that.”  


She shifted from foot to foot and leveled her gun at his chest. “You’re a monster.”

“Yes.”

“Do you want my soul?”  


He sighed but didn’t dare move. “I wanted the comfort of your company; that was all this ever was, I promise you. I…I shall go, and by tomorrow, _Lux_ will be cleared out. I shan’t bother either of you again.”

“Mommy!” Beatrice shrieked again. “Shoot him! He’s just like the monster under my bed when I was little. Get rid of him, please.”

He held up his hands higher. “Chloe, please, I don’t want _either_ of your souls. I just wanted you to be happy and safe. It’s all I’ve wanted since I met you.”

She swallowed hard and looked between where her child was crying and him. “I can’t risk that.”

The Detective squeezed the trigger six times, each volley crushing into his chest and tearing it apart. Lucifer fell to his knees and, as the blood poured from his sternum and his vision failed, the strangest thought came to him, something he couldn’t even understand.

_It’s still better this way_.  
**

He shot up in bed and groaned when his right hand and its damnable claws tore through part of the mahogany headboard. Yes, it was extravagant and foolish considering his tendency to shred so much around him, but he was such a sucker for luxury, always had been. Besides, he could replace it.

Sighing, he sat up and set his head in his hands. “Shit.”

He’d had nightmares all week since his twin’s visit, which was ridiculous on the face of it. He was the Devil. He was supposed to inspire nightmares and not have his sleep plagued by them instead. But they’d been tormenting him whenever he could get rest, which was growing rarer and rarer. This had been the most vivid but far from the worst. It had also, of course, not been the first to involve Chloe. They all did. Sometimes the urchin too, but always Chloe, as if his brother’s admission of exactly how he’d been made and manipulated to be drawn to the miracles had awakened everything he’d felt about Chloe Decker all over again.

The love, the pain, the fear, the hope---all if it was bubbling over in him. Stupid that.

But at night, it was only the fear and agony that came out in his dreams, and they warped the good moments between them. The nightmares were usually about failing her somehow: being too slow in the airport hanger or watching Malcolm shoot her first before he shot him, being forced to do nothing as she bled out from every orifice in the hospital as the poison ravaged her, and the most popular was failing to fight Cain, to walk away and let him live only to have him shoot Chloe dead the moment she showed up at the foot of the stairs.

So much failing.

But this had been the first time she’d shot him.

Hurrying to his washroom, which the urchin wasn’t wrong about, and he’d spent too much time in there hiding from her, Lucifer cleaned up quickly for the day. Even faster, he got dressed, not that it ever took long, and forced himself to breathe, to try and get the panic still flooding through his veins under control. It wasn’t 2017 anymore. It was so much later than that, and while things between him and the Detective had fallen apart spectacularly, nothing truly fatal had ever happened. She’d never shot him out of malice, and, frankly, he didn’t blame her for the one time she actually had.

He’d egged her on then, after all.

And in every dream, no matter what, the loyalty and dedication for _both_ Decker women remained the same, drove his actions, no matter how hopeless they were in nightmares against Malcolm or Professor Carlisle. Despite knowing he’d been made that way, twisted and warped by his Father’s designs, Lucifer could not help that he felt as he did. Since Michael had revealed everything, he’d vowed to himself that he’d just stop, just pull himself away from Beatrice and, by extension, any faint ties to her mother.

He was more than instincts that his Father had forced on him.

Fuck, he made his own decisions; he did.

But the last thing he wanted, deep down, whether by his Father’s hand or his own heart or both, was to send Beatrice away. He cared for both his miracles so very much, and he couldn’t help he’d been made that way. He hated it, but he just…he was trapped, and he had no idea how to move past any of this.

Sighing, he remembered that it was supposed to be Sunday. Mazikeen would be back from her bounty hunting, and perhaps, it would be wise to get back into any routine that he could. He’d skipped out on the show for the last week or more, and, not to be immodest, but he was the star of _Tenebrae_, and it was always good to keep the crowds coming with a glimpse of the Devil at his finest. He slipped down the steps and stopped when his eyes raked across the renovation of his living room floor. The bar, balcony, and window had all been reconstructed to be identical to how they had been. A TV twice the size of his old one was mounted on the wall over his fireplace, and he was pleased by the upgrade.

What he had not expected was the grand piano, another Steinway, set where his old one had been.

He frowned and edged over to it, reaching out carefully to the note taped to its fallboard. The handwriting he recognized or did now after sevenish weeks of glimpsing it over bio notes and Spanish assignments.

**Beatrice.**

_Hey, I know you’re going to be all shirty about this. That’s a word, right? Anyway, don’t be. I asked Ez to arrange the order, and he knows all about instruments and stuff, so I bet this is good. I mean, he knew more than I did about where you got the last one. I…when you get through all this reno-moodiness, we can hang. I haven’t played my violin in a while and…miracle stuff, you know…I just I thought you’d like it. ---B_

_P.S. – I know it’s super weird to, uh, get you a gift with your own money, but I so can’t buy a piano on my own. Tough! :P_

She hadn’t dated the note, but he was sure she’d left it for him before yesterday and their fight.

He sighed and carefully, oh so sodding carefully, ran his fingertips over the ebony of the fall board. It was beautiful, and Ezzekeen had picked well. He’d have to give the demon extra time off for doing such a proficient job.

“I’ve been an utter fool.”

“You’ve been fucking more than that,” Maze said as she stormed up the steps. She clutched both of her curved blades from the show (from the Triad originally) and glared at him. It was only mildly surprising that she was wearing her true face as well. “Do you know what I came home to just now?”

“I do not, Mazikeen.”

She brandished one of her swords high above her head. A warning then. “My best friend and the only person I love on this planet more than Charlie and Linda is downstairs in my apartment, bawling her freaking eyes out. Taka is just handing her tissues on a loop. What the fuck did you do?”

“In my defense, I’ve had a rather rough week. Michael’s information was not good.”

Maze shook her head and clashed her blades together loudly. “You want a deal, Lucifer? Because I have one.”

He sighed and felt his wings droop heavily behind him. Sodding, useless things. “What do you wish?”  


“We spend so much time fake-sparring, and the script says you always win. I call bullshit on that. I can take you.”  


“I doubt that, Maze, but we really don’t need to fight.”

“You hurt, Trixie, so I get to try and tear into your sorry ass. We’ve had this conversation before. Pick whatever weapon you want or whatever and meet me on the main floor. We’re going to fight.”

“If you win?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, well, honestly the one with enough flesh around it still to be able to do that. “You tell me _exactly_ what Michael told you to get your wings in a twist.”  


“And if the inevitable happens, and I am the victor?” he asked quirking his head at her.

“You won’t be, but if you do, then I’ll drive Trixie to Austin myself in May and keep her there.”

“Very well,” he said, giving her a slight bow or as much as he could manage as he was. “After you, Mazikeen.”

**

Beatrice was not on the first floor when he got down there. However, all the Lilim save for Takazeen were. She must have drawn the proverbial short straw to keep a close eye on the spawn. Part of him faltered at the lack of the urchin because, honestly, he expected her to be there. Some idiotic part of himself felt that he could rage and rail against her, even if he hadn’t growled at her this time, and she’d forgive him anything.

He was wrong.

He was wrong and foolish and selfish and, apparently, had learned so very little from either his time in L.A. or in New Orleans. Everyone had a breaking point, even miracles.

Maze took the floor first and started circling, her blades held high. He took a position across from her and pulled his wings tightly to his back. They wouldn’t help here, and with Beatrice a floor above them, they’d be susceptible to merely human blades. However, he did take a defensive stance and held his hands up, claws curled and ready to strike.

Ez took the floor between them and nodded first to his sister and then to Lucifer. “Rules are that anything goes, just like it would in Hell. It’s not to first blood. It’s either to the death or to the yield. If one of you surrenders and taps out, then it’s over. If you go to the death, then so be it.” Ez shook his head and regarded him first. “My lord, are you fine with these terms?”

Lucifer growled. “I am.”

He had no intention of killing Maze. He’d had chances before and after everything with her betrayal and the San Bernardino stunt had _seriously_ considered it. However, now, she was too important to him and, frankly, to the urchin to allow to come to harm. He didn’t think it would be too hard to get her to yield. She was a scrappy demon but hardly the largest of her siblings or the most powerful. He was less sure that she would do him the same courtesy.

“Sis, you sure?” Ez asked of Mazikeen.

“I’ve been waiting to give Lucifer an ass-kicking for years.” She beckoned toward herself with one blade. “It will be my biggest pleasure.”

Ez ran a hand over his scales. “Well, this is probably a terrible idea but…” and he stepped back out of the ring before he continued. “ready, set, go!”

Maze, of course, lunged first. He knew she’d attack. She was always one to take the aggressive approach. He dodged to the right and spun around quickly, slashing across her shoulder blades and watching with a feral satisfaction as blood welled up from her wounds. Mazikeen, to her credit, barely flinched before spinning low and raking her blades toward his knees. Lucifer jumped back at the last minute, but not before the edge of her curved sword sliced through his pants and left a thin line of blood across his knee.

“Not bad, little demon,” he taunted. “But you’re smaller.”

She rolled her eyes, and feinted left before moving right and bringing the right blade up against his shoulder. Lucifer howled as the wound opened, and he’d forgotten how that could hurt, how wounds were so much more piercing with a damn miracle around. The stabbing he’d had recently rendered him unconscious so quickly and he’d slept most of the shock off. This was…he had just forgotten the hiccups of mortality.

“That’s second blood,” she hissed. “You can stop and yield now before I humiliate you in front of the other Lilim.”

He rushed forward and angled his shoulder low enough for the large spike on the edge of his left wing to stab deeply into her shoulder. Maze didn’t scream, and he had also underestimated her masochist streak and tendency to resist and force herself through pain. Lucifer pulled away from her and smirked as her right arm hung limply from her side.

“I said, ‘yield,’ Mazikeen. I am not without mercy.”  


“Haven’t seen much of that these days,” she shot back and dropped her weapons. Instead, she yanked a short dagger, decorated with a tiger at the hilt, from her waist band. She weaved quickly behind him and he tried to twist as quickly but he was large now, not built for the speed he had been when they’d fought years ago in Los Angeles.

Maze leapt to his back and clung with all she was worth to it, pinning his wings between her and his body. He tried to flare them and force her from him, but she clutched with dogged determination. Something sharp bit into his cheek, and he gritted his teeth.

His bodyguard had slashed at his face.

Lucifer roared and bent forward as fast as he could, hoping to fling her forward, but still Maze held on. Had she what? Practiced on fucking bucking broncos somewhere and not told him. He tried to reach to his back to get her off with his hands, but she twisted around and instead was straddling across his chest and shoulders.

Her smile was wide and cruel as she drew the dagger tightly to his carotid. “Yield, or you get to go back to Hell for a visit.”

Lucifer blinked. She was good, and he understood now how she’d become the fiercest of her siblings. Her speed and decisive nature made up for her small size. Perhaps made it a blessing when her opponent was so very large. He flicked his eyes around the room and noticed all the other Lilim looking at the ground. Understandable. No others would challenge him in this way, and they were waiting to see if his wrath would erupt.

To be fair, it had far too often of late.

But not now, since he was always a creature of his word. He’d made a reputation on it, and it was one of the few things left to him.

Didn’t make losing to Maze that much less humiliating.  


He nodded and spoke, “I yield to you, Mazikeen of the Lilim. You’ve won and you shall have your prize.”

She relaxed and withdrew her dagger before dropping to her feet with catlike grace. “Good, then you tell me what the fuck is going on, and don’t you dare try and talk around it or omit anything. What drove you to make the not-so-little-human cry?”

He eyed the other Lilim, and when he spoke, his voice was deep, and his command dared them to even think of defying him. “Go home. Leave me and Maze in peace. The rest is not your concern.”

The Lilim shifted and scattered quickly to their building next door. Lucifer sighed and wandered over to the bar to poor himself a heaping helping of Scotch and did the same for Maze. Her arm still hung at her side, and his own shoulder still ached, but the liquor would help with that. In a few days, they’d been right as rain. Honestly, in a few hours, once Beatrice was no longer near him, he’d feel far better.

“Fancy a drink, Maze? You’ll need it.”

She took the tumbler in her good hand and drained it in one draught. “Talk, don’t stall.”

“Do you remember when you and Mum told me about the Detective? About what Amenadiel had done?”

“Yeah, you went batshit after the poisoning, went to Vegas, and got a fake wife. It was totally nuts. You thought that Decker didn’t have real feelings for you because…” She frowned. “That’s not possible.”

“No, it’s not apparently. I should have figured that out for certain after the Detective told me in no uncertain terms to go to Hell once she’d seen my true face. The miracles are truly ‘autonomous,’ as Michael calls it.”

“Then, why are you acting as crazy and dumb as you were when you dragged home Candy Morningstar?”

“Surely, Mazikeen, you know my triggers better than anyone else save for my bastard of a Father.”  


She frowned and nodded toward the Scotch bottle. “I’d like another, Lucifer.”  


He nodded and obliged. Years ago, he’d promised that much to her, that deference of servitude, and he always honored it. Besides, it wasn’t often an opponent bested him. He was genuinely impressed. “_My feelings_ are not real.”

“Huh?”

“Father manipulated me. He knew if he made the miracles in a certain way and with certain needs, that it would play to my personality. Their love of the arts in some fashion, I’d wager their stubbornness, and the way they draw trouble to them, like a beacon to the supernatural. They need to be saved.” He sighed and picked up the rest of the Scotch bottle and chugged from it. He needed to be more tipsy than he currently was. At least he could take advantage of the one good thing about having a miracle under his roof. “Father made _me_ the one without the choice. Sodding laugh riot, isn’t it?”

Maze swore long and loud in Lilim and then buried her tiger-bladed dagger into the oak of the bar’s top. “That bastard.”

“It’s all been _His_ plan all along---the vacation that never ended, meeting the Detective and Beatrice, and, I suspect, Cain coming into play as well.” He shuddered and set the bottle down. His wings spread out wide behind him, and he wanted to scream and never stop, to wake up from the nightmare his life had become as he had earlier this morning from the Monopoly game gone awry. “I suspect He wanted to put me in a position to kill a human, to be able to render punishment on me to such an extent.” He sighed and finished the bottle before he spoke again. “I just didn’t go back to Hell like he wanted.”

“You can’t be serious, though. You love that kid. We all do. She’s family.”

“I…of course she is, but I cannot help that I feel that way about her. It was _never_ my decision at all.”  


Maze shrugged. “So what?”  


He set the bottle down and arched one eyebrow ridge at her. “Beg your pardon?”

“You heard me, oh great Lord Lucifer or whatever my siblings suck up to you with. So, fucking what? Your Dad did something shitty? Shocker, must be a day that ends in ‘y.’ He’s not even _here_. He fucked off forty plus years ago to another universe or whatever, and he might not be back until long after Trix is dead from natural causes.”

“You don’t understand.” Lucifer shuffled away from the bar and started to pace. “You have no idea how this feels. All I wanted was free will---one fucking thing, and he made me think I had that much. The Fall, my reign in Hell…all of it was almost worth it to have that.” He stopped and pointed to himself, well, what was left of him. “Even _this_ was somehow bearable since it was foolish and awful, but it was on my own terms. Except it **never** was. The miracles are a literal Goddamn leash, and they always were. If I take care of her, then I’m doing what _He_ wanted, and if Dad ever comes back, he’ll use Beatrice as a choke chain against me.”

“You’re a real bastard, you know that?” Maze bit back.

“Mazikeen, you are not my equal.”

“Please, please give me some of that angel ego that apparently never leaves no matter how far you Fall, Lucifer. I never miss that.” She yanked out her dagger and spun it around in her good hand. “I am your equal, asshole. You just poured me two drinks, we’re friends and have been since we got here, and I could have shoved this in your neck and watched you bleed out. I didn’t because I didn’t want to win that way, but I had the option. So, yeah, my opinion fucking matters, _oh king_.” She spit that last part out as if she’d bitten into rotten fruit.

“Fine, then, Maze, how am I the bastard here?” he asked, quirking his head at her.

“Because it’s _always_ about your Father. It’s your biggest weakness, and it’s pathetic. It’s why I could manipulate it so easily with the angel stunt, and I am sorry for that.”

“Ta ever so much then.”  


“_But_ so what? So what if you started caring about Decker and Trixie because your Dad made you. Guess what? You still do, and you still pine for Decker like the saddest _Romeo and Juliet _thing ever, which is so not the King of Hell I used to know.”

“I don’t.”

“Oh, you do. Also, you fret and worry and want to protect Trixie more than anything or you wouldn’t have half your staff on her like they were the secret service and she was the president.”

“Fair but---”

“You care about both of them, and if your Dad got that ball rolling, then whatever. He’s gone and, seriously, fuck him.”

Lucifer shook his head. “It’s easy for you to say. Lilim are designed to be loyal. You were bred to help me in Hell and protect me, especially you as my chief guard. It’s in your nature and you’ve never questioned it.”

“I don’t really want to. You’re a pain in my ass, but it works for me to keep you safe. Definitely keeps me busy.”

“Well, I don’t _want_ this. I don’t want to have feelings I didn’t bloody well ask for. I don’t want to keep sacrificing for two women or, honestly, mostly just the urchin and have it strip me layer by layer of all that I am. My life was infinitely better before Chloe waltzed into _Lux_.”

“You don’t mean that.”  


He roared and spread his wings wide. “I do. I don’t care about the miracles in reality; it was never what I wanted. My Father made me, and I would give anything if He fucking hadn’t.”

There was a gasp, and he turned around to see Taka and Beatrice on the stairwell between the bar floor and Maze’s flat. Taka had her jaw clenched and was shaking her head in disapproval. Beside her Beatrice was crying.

Lucifer’s wings dropped immediately, and he inched toward the stairs. “Urchin, let me explain---”

She swiped at her eyes and came to stand on the bottom step. “You were both so loud, and…is it true?”

“Michael told me many things, yes.”

“You never lie.”  


“I do not, child. And, yes, my Father _made_ me have feelings for the miracles. The way I…falling in love with your mother was not under my complete control. I do not think my need to protect you so fiercely is by my own volition either.”

“So, you do hate me?” she sniffed, and he had only felt worse in his life once. And only because her mother had quite literally told him to go to Hell.

“Urchin, I hate myself and my Father so very much right now. I’m confused and---”

She knew him well enough to know when he skirted things, when he’d give partial truths to avoid the most painful ones. Beatrice rubbed at her eyes again. “You do, and I can make it simple for you, Lucifer. I…” and she didn’t finish, just raced out of the bar and into Bourbon Street alone.

**

_It’s not true, it’s not true, it’s not true._

She couldn’t stop the litany from running through her mind. It couldn’t be true, it just couldn’t. All that Lucifer had done for her mom and her…all he’d helped her with since she’d come to New Orleans, it couldn’t just be because God Said So. That wasn’t fair. He did like her, or he had, right? Then, Michael had come and said that Luci had never had a choice in any of it.

Trixie knew him well enough to know how that had to cut into him. How the whole reason he’d even started the stupid Rebellion was because he’d wanted free will for him and the other angels. She’d been to church and, yeah, since she’d met him and Maze again, she’d read through some Milton or, well, the Cliff’s Notes. He had to hate her because his Dad had manipulated all of those feelings all along, stripped him of his free will so adeptly that Lucifer hadn’t even realized it.

She kept running, weaving in and out the French Quarter until she came to a row of brightly colored homes in peach, pink and powder blue. Each was two stories with that same wrought iron railing around them, and she was tired of running, of fighting everything so hard. Yesterday, she’d resigned herself to going home to Austin, but today, all she wanted was to leave New Orleans behind. She should have listened to her instincts and not the stupid parade of gifts weeks ago.

And yet…

It wasn’t any of the gifts that had convinced her, not truly. It was the cards, the effort he’d put into writing her and the vulnerability he’d shown by doing it. She had been too weak to say no to him after seeing that but not anymore.

As her muscles burned and her breath hitched, she slid down onto the stone steps in front of one of the homes. The sun had set while she’d been running, and glancing at her watch, she realized she’d been fleeing mindlessly from the club for over half an hour. Reaching into her jeans’ pocket, she searched for her phone. She could grab a rideshare home at least, even if she didn’t know where she was. Her GPS would. Trixie groaned when she found nothing in either pocket. She’d been dumb and left it charging at Taka and Maze’s.

Fuck.

Stupid Lucifer, and stupid God even, and stupid her most of all for thinking she could help him. For doing what her mom had warned against and not just letting him figure his own massive-ass mess out. Spent from the weekend, Trixie set her head in her hands and cried. She bawled until her shoulders shook and her lungs ached, and when she thought she all water had been sponged form her body, she felt a soft hand on her shoulder.

At least Maze or Taka had found her and could help her get back to her sorority house. Thank the universe in general for the Lilim’s sharp noses.

“Hey, I’m sorry, I just…I know it’s dangerous and I can’t---” She stopped and let her left hand drop to her side when she spied her actual visitor; Trixie hoped that Esmée wouldn’t notice. After all, Trixie kept her dragon-blade at all times in her ankle sheath. “You don’t want to do this.”

“You said that last time,” Esmée purred. Her face looked better than it had, but that wasn’t saying much. The skin had knit back together from where Lucifer had slashed her, but her one eye was a milky white, and Trixie figured her vision there had never come back. “You don’t understand how fucking good miracle blood tastes.”

Trixie kept talking. If she kept the vampiress distracted enough, then she could get her dagger. She just needed a good strike, her one chance at the vampire’s chest or neck. “And you look pretty worse for the wear after tangling with the Devil last time.”

“I don’t see him here now.”

_Point_.

And she wasn’t sure if now that he knew his Dad was pulling his puppet strings, if Lucifer would show to save her again. She was terrified he wouldn’t just to spite God above.

“Well, he can’t babysit me all the time,” she barked back. Her fingers slid around the hilt of her dragon blade and she started to breathe again.

“But he’s been so good about making sure his demons flank you too. You’ve been as guarded as royalty since we last met. How pleasant a surprise to find you lost and wandering the streets alone, miracle.”

Esmée reached down to stroke her hair back from her face, and Trixie shivered and forced her eyes to the pavement. She knew the score now. Lucifer scared sinners and elicited desire with his gaze. Alistair had thralled her with his, and if she hazarded a glance up at Esmée, she’d be paralyzed all over again.

There was the slick slide of a tongue against her neck, and Trixie eased her knife from its holster. _Wait, there will be the right time for a strike. Don’t waste it._ A voice that sounded more like Maze echoed through her mind, all the training she’d already had screaming in her brain to wait for her shot, for when the vampiress’s guard was down.

“You’re so lovely, miracle, so very tasty. I shouldn’t sample you till you’re back and safely secured in the nest, but it’s been hundreds of years, and _nothing _tastes like you do. Nothing.”

Trixie clutched the dagger tightly in her left hand and braced herself for the bite. She’d acquiesce, play along, but as long as she still had the blade and wasn’t paralyzed, she had a chance. “Please, don’t.”

“Oh, poor miracle, your Devil isn’t here to save you now, is he?”

“I want to go home.”  


Esmée laughed and all Trixie could see was the idiotic flare of the vampiress’s pink poodle skirt spreading out beneath her. _I’m maybe going to die by the hand of a Pink Lad., Perfect._ “You’re home now, miracle. And I promise I shall keep a closer eye on you than your Devil ever did.”

The fangs bit into her neck as painful and sharp as she remembered. Trixie counted to ten, well aware she was losing blood she’d need but desperate to ensure Esmée wasn’t as alert as she should be, that she was lost to the passion of the hunt.

_Wait, not-so-little-human, every kill is about patience. I promise._

The vampiress moaned above her, and Trixie saw her window. Moving as fast as she could, which was still so human and so very slow, she brought the blade up between her and Esmée and buried it hilt deep in the vampire’s chest. Fangs left her neck immediately, and though woozy, Trixie jumped to her feet and backed away. Esmée crumpled to the ground and her skin went grey, with dark black veins lacing through her, even as the silver entered her blood stream.

“Miracle, I’d have treated you well.”

“You would have made me a cow!”

“Your accommodations besides the chains would have been luxurious, and I’d have kept you alive for the space of your natural life.” Her skin grew white and pale even as the black veins bubbled and erupted like boils at the surface of her skin. “The others I promised you to…the supply of blood…they will have you directly now if they can. Papa Midnite won’t be kind like me.”

Trixie fell to her knees, dizzy from too much blood missing to stand any longer. “Fuck you. Fuck all of you. I don’t need the Lilim or the Devil. I don’t need _anyone_, and you’re not going to just eat me.” She worked hard to suck in breath and then hawked a loogie into Esmée’s one, good eye. “Go to Hell.”

The vampire coughed, and black blood fell from her lips. “I might be headed there.”  


“Guaranfuckingteed, bitch.”

“But you’re already past the gates, miracle. Make no mistake on that.”

Those were the last words Trixie heard before she passed out, her head hitting the pavement with a dull thud.

**

She blinked awake with Beelz curled up on her chest and her neck wound dressed. As her eyes registered the view around her, she yipped at the very large, very uncomfortable Devil frowning at her from the study alcove in her room. The tips of his great wings scraped against the top of the ceiling, and Trixie was pretty sure that he was more anxious than she was without the ability to pace or even really do much than keep his wings pinned as tightly to his back as possible.

“Jesus, don’t do that.”

“First, wrong sibling. Second, urchin, now you know why I don’t just wake you in the mornings.” His eyes dimmed to a dull glow, and she knew she’d hurt him. Tough he’d hurt her too.

“I didn’t mean to…it was just instinct.”

He nodded, and his voice was kind yet quiet. “Believe me, child, I understand that more than you ever will.”

“Uh, so we’re in my room at the sorority house. How did that happen?”

“I found you, and Mazikeen got here first to open your window. I’m fast enough, when I choose to be.”  


Trixie had the insane impulse to pout over this revelation. “I got to go flying? I wasn’t even awake for that. What’s the point of a best friend with wings if I don’t even get to be conscious for the ride?”

Lucifer offered her a small, lopsided smile. “Well, I was unclear if we were still friends. If after we talk, you wish to remain so, then we can come to accords somehow. I’m sure.”

“I don’t know.” She sighed and sat up slowly, even as her head spun. Beelz chittered and scurried to her spare pillow to curl up and continue his nap. “Man, I feel like shit.”

Lucifer gestured to her dresser. “Pardon me if I stay where I am. Your space is not exactly compatible with me. However, Maze got you orange juice, apple juice, and chocolate cookies. Humans tend to lose blood sugar along with the blood itself. Last time, I was able to get things down you before you passed out. I…please take what you need.”

She nodded and regretted that. It made her head spin all over again. Breathing in slowly, she steadied herself enough to get to the dresser and to pick up the apple juice and the chocolate chip cookie roughly the size of her head. She guzzled fast and then bit into the baked good.

“What happened to Esmée’s body?”

“Taka took it back to _Tenebrae_. It will be made an example of,” he said, his voice a low growl that made her hair stand on in but also gave her a sense of satisfaction at the same time. Whatever wrath Lucifer and the Lilim turned on Esmée and her nest was earned.

“So, what does that mean?”

“Oh, drawn and quartered, her rotting remains scattered to the nests we know of. The supernatural community is on alert about exactly what happens to those who try and take you for their own. Mazikeen is hunting for Esmée’s actual nest personally.”

“I…good.”

He grinned at her and the expression was genuine. “You did quite the job, Beatrice. I told you that you were good with a blade.”

“Maze’s renewed practice has helped like a lot.”

“Humans don’t usually…”

She frowned back at him. “But I’m _not_, and that’s kind of our big problem, isn’t it?”

“I did not intend for you to hear what I told Mazikeen.”

“No shit.”

“Urchin, I---”

  
“Level with me, Luci. Do you hate me?”

“I resent that you can be used against me, yes. I could never hate you as a person, but there are mixed feelings about everything.”

“Meaning: you’re pretty fucking mad, right?” She set her glass down and crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s super immature. I can’t help that I’m a miracle any more than you can help that your Dad fucked with you.”

He nodded and sighed. “And that’s why I needed time to think this week, to try and suss out my feelings.”

“So, what’s the verdict? Are you going to bear to be around a miracle anymore? Hey, are you ever going to get to a point where you don’t just lock yourself off from me or growl me away?”  


“I did not this time. I stuck to my word.”

“You tried to hide from me. You _ghosted _me, and that fucking sucks, Luci.”

“I know.” He sighed this time enough to kick up a breeze that made Beelzebub coo and then leap back to his cage. “I do not know where we go from here, I admit that.” He ran a hand carefully over his burned, furrowed scalp. She winced to see it, especially with Michael’s visit so fresh on her mind. How could a father do that to his son? Ever. Her mom and dad might punish her sure. There were the weeks of helping with the police filing project after she’d got caught drinking and driving by Dad as a senior. But they wouldn’t…Fuck, who threw their kid into a lake of fire? “When I found you, you were so pale, and you looked dead. I cannot tell you how relieved I was to hear you breathe when I picked you up in my arms.”

“That’s something.”  


“You don’t understand.”  


“Explain it to me.”

“To know that you are partly my Father’s manipulation, that I have no true Free Will of my own is exquisitely painful, Beatrice.” He laughed ruefully. “But a world that you are not in is far worse. I had a glimpse of that. I have had the most painful glimpse of what it might have been like to lose your mother more than once. I…she and I are irreparably damaged. Of that I am certain. But I am what I am, and fuck my Father, but I’m how he _made_ me. I do not wish for a world in which either Decker is dead. If I can prevent that, then I will. It’s all I can do.”

“Out of duty?”

“Because you’re the only friend I have outside of Mazikeen. The rest of the Lilim are subjects, and I may one day have something repaired between at least me and Azrael. For as long as you are around, Michael and I are at least bound to a truce to protect you, but I don’t want to---even with my Father’s cruelty and games---I do not wish for a daily existence that you are not part of.” He shook his head and his fists clenched at his sides. “I’m so very selfish, Beatrice, but that’s what I’ve decided. Of course, by now, you truly understand my---”

  
“Asshole side?”

“I was going to say why your mother left me, perhaps moreso than my actual nature.”

“You don’t get to do this, you know?”

“What?”

“I lay out all the rules,” she said, trying to keep her voice low. She just could not explain to her sisters or her house mother why the literal Devil was in her home. That wasn’t going to work at all. “I thought I’d…you found a loophole. I said don’t scream and shout and frighten me away. Well, Lucifer, ordering me away for ‘my own good’ isn’t any better. Neither is locking yourself up to brood. I mean, I can’t get it. I can’t possibly get how hard your life sucks because it does, okay? And the fact your Dad has been playing you the whole damn time is even fucking worse. But I can’t do this, okay?”  


He lowered his head and studied her carpet. “I understand. It might be a bit cumbersome, but I shall see myself out.”

“How even?”

“I can slip between planes as my twin can. Only one besides earth is open to me, but a quick pop down and back up means I can leave here unseen if I so choose.”

“Hell?”  


“You say that like I’ve not been there so very many times before, urchin. I was there not eight years ago to make an example of that traitor, Dromos. A few seconds there shall not do me in.”

She bolted from bed even as her head swam a little and gripped his arm. It was his right one and since he was still near her, it was weeping blood. Damn it if she didn’t hate being a miracle, all down sides and nothing cool to make up for it. At least not yet.

“Don’t go. Duh, wait till like late in the night. I’ll use that incantation on you, and you can sneak back to _Tenebrae_.”

“I don’t wish to be a bother.”

She snorted. “Since when? Luci, you’re the ultimate drama queen, and I’m not saying I don’t get why, but I am saying that now that we know everything between us…you have to do better. I won’t run out and make myself a big target to whatever big bad out there, and you won’t stonewall me or brood alone or throw me out or, especially, _fucking growl_, ‘k?”

He blinked back at her and there was warmth and flickering life in his eyes again.

_Hope_.

“Really, Beatrice? I hardly deserve a third chance.”

“First, you super don’t, but I’m a miracle and we’re most understanding.”

“Perhaps not so true.”

“Nope, totally. Second, you’re my best friend, and if I can take Maze back for calling me a brat, then I can deal with this, okay? Also, and not least at all, you’re stuck with me. I’m gonna help, okay?”

His eyes dimmed a little. “Because you feel sorry for me, because while I might be bound to you, you_ pity_ me.”

“No, actually, I super don’t. I mean, yeah, I did at first, but you’re kind of a dick about stuff, and I don’t feel badly for people who have such crap tempers.”

“Oh, and how I’ve missed the crushing honesty of Detective Douche.”

She smirked at him even if they’d violated their own rules. They’d done far more than that today, fuck it. “Dad says he likes to call ‘em, like he sees them.” Trixie shrugged and sat on the very farthest tip of her bed up against the headboard. All she had was an extra-long twin, but she figured they could just make it work. Patting the expanse of the mattress beside her, she nodded toward her Devil. “Come on.”  


“It will be quite a tight squeeze---”

“Just do it, Luci. You look so uncomfortable crammed in a corner.”

He rolled his eyes and took a seat beside her. To be fair to his concerns, the bed did groan and tilt toward him. However, it held. “Well, urchin? What other charming things do you have to say to me?”

“You earned it. You really made me feel crappy all week, and I have so much other stuff going on in my life, dude. I needed…you just don’t get to do that again, okay?”

“You’ve my word that I will never _ghost_ you again. I shall never send you away. If you leave New Orleans, child, it will be on your own terms. I swear it.”

“And you can trust me, Luci. Okay? The truth is that I don’t pity you, but I need you.”

“Well, I am very good at keeping miracles alive,” he said glumly.

She sighed and burrowed against his left side until he took the hint and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “Yes, but you don’t get it like at all. You have no idea how messed up everything with Malcolm was because you and Mom showed up at the end, okay? I never told Mom all of it. I didn’t even tell the therapist all of it when I had to see her after the kidnapping stuff, okay?”  


Lucifer growled and somewhere behind them Beelz chittered feverishly. Huh. Maybe a devil and a sugar glider were non-mixy things. “If he touched you---”

“G…Jeez, no, not anything like _that_.”

“Because if he had, I’d go to Hell right now and add so much more to his loop, I swear it.”

She looked at him and caught his eyes blazing so brightly they could have lit up the entire room if she didn’t have the lamp on. Yes, she knew he’d protect her, but Malcolm was probably getting more than he deserved already. “No, but I was seven, Luci. He came in and flashed his badge, and they knew he was my dad’s patrol partner just like they knew you were Mom’s consultant. They had him on the fucking list. He takes me out, and I know something’s wrong. Malcolm just _felt_ wrong.”

“He always did, child.” Lucifer sighed and relaxed a bit as she told her story, his other hand oh so carefully threading through her hair.

“He shoves me in the back seat, and I start to cry, yanno, cause it’s messed up, but the teachers think that like my dad’s been hurt on duty and Malcolm’s just trying to help and take me to the hospital. No sooner do we pull out of the place than he levels his gun at me. He tells me if I fucking cry he’ll put a bullet in my head and to be a good girl. I…what was I supposed to do?”

“Urchin---”

“So, I sit in that seat, and I cry but I don’t say a word because I knew if I even whimpered, he was going to kill me. Then we’re at the hanger and he says Mom’s coming but it takes hours for her to find out and drive to me. _Hours_, and he’s got the gun trained on me the whole time, and you remember him.”

“Vividly, child.”

“He would not shut up. He got anxious himself and started ranting about Hell. He was eating so many stupid like Twinkies. He bought a couple boxes at some gas station before we got to the hanger. He didn’t have to worry about me leaving the car cause they lock…cruisers you know?”

“Yes, quite familiar,” he said, his tone low and understanding.

“And he told me all about it, how thirty seconds was like thirty years. Everything turned to ash in his mouth, and he was always thirsty, and it was so scary. He got more and more unhinged and waved the gun at me so much. I thought he wouldn’t even wait for Mom!”

Lucifer squeezed her more tightly and his left wing settled over her too. She liked that, the warmth of it. He might hate them, and after seeing Michael’s pure white wings radiating heavenly light, she understood that. But they still felt safe to her, felt like protection and warmth when wrapped around her, and she couldn’t fault him for that.

Or find them ugly or twisted or anything else he must be assuming about them.

“But he didn’t. You’re safe, urchin.”

“Because of you.”  


“I got shot.”

“You got better, and you helped Mom stop him. I didn’t even feel really safe till you hugged me too and promised it would be okay. And it was. Then, it was worse with Mom in the hospital the next year. I wasn’t stupid. I knew it was real bad. Dad was crying. You know? Like how guys do with shiny eyes and sniffling. He kept telling me that everything was okay, that Mom would pull through, but all the doctors and nurses looked upset and one time Mom had a seizure so bad before they put her on morphine that she fucking bled. Her _nose_ was bleeding so much, and I was eight but I knew that wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“I am so sorry she was poisoned. You’ve no idea. If I’d been smarter, I could have…”

“But she was, and it was so bad, and I was scared, but you showed up and you had the cure and she was safe. And it was just like Malcolm because you were there and you did something and I knew you were the Devil, but I wasn’t quite sure how you got it all fixed, but you did. Those are the two worst days of my life, Lucifer, and they would have been so fucking much worse, but you fixed it.”

“I probably could have done better on both counts,” he admitted.

“But that’s why I stay, you idiot. I don’t care what you look like or what you can or can’t do. I don’t care what your Dad is trying to do to you, and _He’s the asshole_, you know?”  


“I thought I was.”  


“You’re the jerk.”

“Quite.”

“But,” she conceded. “You saved me and Mom. You made the two worst days of my life bearable and safer so I could move past them. If you hadn’t been there, I’d have lost everything. I had nightmares after Malcolm…_a lot _of them.” She didn’t mention that sometimes she still did. That was too much for tonight. “I stay because you saved me, so I’m going to help you. I stay because I was little, but we were friends once, and we’re friends now. Just let me do that, okay?”

He was quiet for a long time, and she was scared he’d stand and beg her to get him out of the house right then. Lucifer and emotional honesty weren’t exactly on a first name basis, even she could get that much.

Finally, he kissed the top of her head delicately and sighed. “Beatrice, you have the most noble of intentions, but you don’t owe me any debts. Apparently, I couldn’t have _refrained_ from helping you if I wanted to. Honestly, even if part of that is Father’s machinations, I wouldn’t have wanted you hurt any more than I have ever wished ill on your mother. Or, to be oddly frank, on Daniel either. However, you don’t have to save me. I gave my services freely. That is all.” He laughed and it hurt so much to hear how broken it was. Trixie couldn’t stop the tears from welling up in her eyes. “There’s so little left to save, spawn, that it’s not worth it. _I’m _not worth it.”

“I don’t believe that. I just…I honestly don’t have a lot of friends either. You don’t outside of Maze. Let’s just try actually being those. Then, you help me figure out my stupid miracle-ness and I’ll help you…maybe there’s a loophole, right? Maze said your Dad is all about weird fine print and mind games. I know you’ve tried for a while, but another perspective couldn’t hurt, could it?”

“I am quite certain, child, that there is no cure for me. If Father or the rules he set in place on killing humans has done this to me…if it has been in place for over a decade, why should it change now?”  


She looked up at him and smiled. “Because I’m a miracle.”

“You say that a lot. You don’t _do_ anything. For all we know, you could be the miracle equivalent of Aquaman.”

“I will so not be cursed with talking to fish.”

“Well, you do live on a port so…”

“Lucifer!”

He sighed and untangled his wing first and then uncurled his arm form around her shoulders. “I am flattered you wish to try, and I’m glad that saving you from Malcolm still helps you, still mostly keeps you feeling safe if and when nightmares come. But, Beatrice, some things can’t be saved.”

“Mom never thinks that. It’s why…yeah, prison isn’t fun or ideal or whatever, but there’s a chance for rehabilitation sometimes. Everyone deserves a chance. That whole no mercy bullshit from the Old Testament is wrong.”

“Well, it’s my Father’s favorite jam. I get my short temper from somewhere after all.” Lucifer looked down at his hands, and that hurt her so much. It wasn’t quite as bad as the eyes, and having seen Michael’s recently, it ached fresh to look at Lucifer and not see the same, kind brown eyes gazing down at her. They’d been so very soulful. But it pained her deeply to see the fine fingers that had warped and bent, and the claws that were meant for carnage stuck there instead. He was a fucking pianist; couldn’t his Father leave well enough alone? “Do you know what I hate most about what my Father has done to me?”

“The whole miracle Trojan Horse thing, right? You seem pretty pissed about that,” she replied coolly.  


“Yes, although I suppose since I killed Cain in part to protect your mother, it’s all related anyway, even to my punishment.”

“And?” she prodded gently, her tone softening.

“I loathe that having him shove that protectiveness in me, that sodding _instinct_ makes me less. It makes me less than my siblings, and it makes me lesser than humans too. No offense, spawn.”

She rolled her eyes. “None taken.”

“I can’t…so many things are different, and they probably always will be, and I detest each and every change.” He punctuated his point by curling his fingers and claws into fists at his side. “But there are things I do that are no better than the demons I have dominion over, and I know that. I don’t always intend to growl---I did not before you that first time we met again, and I certainly didn’t want to in front of Azrael. But it comes out. The anger is so vivid and fierce that I can barely contain it most days, and while it’s mostly at myself and at _Him_, I can’t keep it locked tightly either. Now the need to protect you despite all logic, despite any regard for my own personal safety…It is instinct, Beatrice. It is hardly higher thought.”

She nodded and hugged him tightly. Her arms not even coming close to wrapping around all of him. “We’ll figure this out, okay? I know you’ve tried already, but you have Azrael and Michael and a miracle, even if I don’t actually do anything. Hell, if I have to slap Constantine like a lot, I’ll take one for the team too and do it. That stupid wizard owes us. We can fix this.”

“My Father---”

“Isn’t even here, Lucifer. He’s been gone since the ‘70s except for one vision you got, right? And you don’t even know he technically sent it or whatever.”

“I came back from Hell without my wings. He had to have done that. Mum was already fleeing Hell and was busy at the time.”

“Wherever your dad is, I will help you. A whole team really, okay?”

He nodded and regarded her corkboard for the first time. “Those are oddly cute.”

“Yeah, even Maze liked them.”  


Lucifer gazed across the expanse of them, and she saw him stiffen the second he saw the one from Christmas. “Your mother has held up rather well.” This time when he laughed, it was genuine if self-effacing. “She’s definitely held up better than I have.”

“Maybe,” she said noncommittally.

Her friend quirked his head and continued studying her doodles until he came upon the few at the far corner, the ones of himself. “Well, I had no idea you drew me too, Beatrice.”  


“I…they’re dumb.”

“They’re actually quite good. They do look like me, minus that bizarre anime style with the too-large eyes you’ve adopted. You’ve got real talent there.”

“Thanks,” she said. “I…uh…I can take them down. I don’t know if that’s exactly what you’d like?”

“Why ever would you? They’re excellent and frankly good as far as portraits go. Obviously, no one here knows that second part.” He stretched out his wings and shuddered a little. “I don’t wish to be like this, urchin, but I don’t know how I can fix it. I should never even entertain the idea of asking a human child for help.”

“Miracle child,” she corrected. Maybe that would sink into his thick skull if she reminded him enough.”

“So, we help each other, yes?”

“That’s what friends do. It’s not a deal; it’s just how it works, dude.”

Lucifer sighed again, and it ruffled the drawings on her corkboard. “I fear that there won’t be much left of me…sod it, _anything_ left of me but instinct and my Father’s manipulations if I don’t get back to well…I was never _normal_, but I’d prefer to be my regular, dashing self again. I shall do whatever I can to help you find your power, even if I think it’s an unwise idea, spawn.”

“Duly noted.”

“And if you wish, I will not keep you from trying to help me get, shall we say, paroled from this form.”

She nodded and, leaning up, kissed his cheek as she had so many times at her dad’s annoying requests. When she pulled back, she was mollified to see his eyes brighten. Once you got used to it, even like this, Luci was so very easy to read. “It’s a promise, and even if we can’t, as long as you’re not an asshole---which hey is a big problem and hurdle for you to so work on---”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, urchin.”

“As long as you’re not a freaking jerk to me, even if we can’t fix this,” and she gestured toward him as if he’d be confused about what she meant. “I wouldn’t go anywhere. I…Lucifer, you’re more than how you look or what you can’t quite manage like this.”

“Claws are the worst.” He grumbled a little. “My Father is quite creative; I must give the bastard that.”  


“But cool. That’s good that we agree for once. So, uh, do you want me to make you invisible so you can stalk a sorority house or whatever?”

He winked and raised one hand to his chest. “I would never---”

“Yeah, no shit cause I wouldn’t do it. However, I can boot up my laptop. I’ll even watch _Bones_ if you want.”

“Why do you act like _Bones_ is your own, personal hell loop?”  


“Because it so is. I’m telling you _Angel _is the better show.”

“They get demons quite wrong. As if Doyle could even exist. There are not demon-human hybrids. Be real!”

“Still, I’ll watch with you.” She hesitated at that. “Although…”

“Although what?”

“I might have one more deal I want to strike.”

“Do you now?”

“Yes, Saturday, I’d like you to go with me somewhere.”  


His wings drooped. “You know that I can’t. Even if you made me invisible, I still take up so very much space. I can’t just pass amongst the humans and have no one notice.”

“Oh, trust me, Luci, this place? You will have nothing but oceans of space. Promise me that you’ll let me plan an outing.”

“I don’t go out.”

“You’re definitely out now.”

“You were hurt…”

“Then we have an actual outing when I’m not in mortal peril, duh.” She knew how to get him to agree. Trixie arched her neck high and tried to look him in the eye as best she could. “You said the devil fears no one and backs away from no challenge. If you can say that about spicy shrimp tacos, you can so do this. Unless you’re a chicken.” She winked at him.

“I was one of the most powerful of the archangels. I ruled Hell for eons by beating demons into submission. I’m not scared of anything.”

“Cool, then on Saturday, you’ll be happy to come with.”

“Fine, urchin,” he said, settling onto the bed a bit more comfortably as she pulled out her computer. “As you wish.”

**

He hadn’t believed the urchin when she’d told him where to go. Honestly, he’d moved to the city so long after the infamous hurricane that had drowned out Six Flags, that he’d never even realized it was there. Well, more accurately, that the park had been there once upon a time. Beatrice had promised to meet him at just after sunset by the massive set of swings in the center of Jazz Land. He wasn’t sure how she’d found her own way into the park, and he should have taken her with him, but she insisted that on Saturday she had a charity project with her sisters she couldn’t get out of.

He swept beside the trashed structure. Panels were gone and the top that spread out like a mushroom cap was only partially covered in the painted sides and the gilt-edged enamel. The long chains that hung from it were tangled and few, if any, still held seats. The seats that did remain were cracked and chipped. None would hold the weight of even a toddler, let alone the spawn.

Lucifer stumbled a bit at his landing, going to one knee with the landing. Flying was something he hadn’t done in so very long. Yes, he’d used his angel wings in Hell to ascend to his throne when needed, a throne that only a Celestial could rule. He’d even used his returned wings to fly the Detective to safety and back to finish what he’d started with Cain. Perhaps far from his smartest move. Since the urchin had come to New Orleans, he’d used them several times to ferry her quickly out of danger, but this was the first time he’d really used them at, if not leisure, at least when nothing life and death was haunting him. He was rusty.

A (former) archangel was rusty.

Lucifer was sure that somewhere above him, Remiel and Gabe were laughing heartily about that.

But Beatrice had insisted on an outing, and, to be quite blunt, he was going stir crazy himself. Except for his balcony, late at night, and a couple times to help the urchin, he’d not fresh air on his skin in a decade.

She wasn’t wrong about being just out, even if it was in an abandoned wasteland, being better for him. At least he felt like he could breathe.

“That was about a 5.0 out of 10, Satan,” the urchin quipped, grinning up at him.

“You never take into account my fearsome nature, child. Can you fly?”

“Maybe some day?”

“I doubt that’s a miracle ability.”  


“Still, that was not exactly a perfect landing.”

He frowned back at her. “I can leave.” Lucifer quirked his head and studied her closer. In the interim, she pulled out a battery-operated lantern and turned it on. Right, humans and the dark. Sad that. “How did you even get in on your own?”

“This guy in my chem class about a month ago snuck in here. He had this whole urban explorer vid up on Youtube. Unfortunately, the dumbass also got stabbed by part of an old bumper car so he got tetanus. I got the full details on the how and the best time to sneak in when I was sharing my notes with him.”

“Right,” Lucifer craned his neck and took in the full vista of waterlogged metal that had bent and frayed in the storm decades before, the abandoned buildings bleached by the sun, and the roller coasters with gaps missing in their tracks. “You find the most appealing places.”

“Okay, so it’s not like the Ritz.”

“Oh, hardly.”

“But the way I figure it is that it’s acres of space. No one is going to come here, and if they are, well, urban explorers are probably secretly hoping to catch the Devil or something actually intense on their Go-Pros so they get hits.”

“I am not aiming to go viral.”

“Of course not,” she sniffed. “Still,” she said, threading her free arm through his. “It’s really their fault if they sneak up on us and get scared. I mean, they broke into an abandoned amusement park. Thus, asking for it.”

Lucifer snorted. “They’re not going to sneak up on me, child. I hear better than Mazikeen when I’m trying to, at least. Second, trespassing doesn’t necessarily merit the full-devil stare down.”  


“Still, it’s pretty much guaranteed to be just us tonight. If anyone does come by, well, it’s not like they weren’t idiots.”

“We’re idiots.”

“Well, I’m up to date on my tetanus shot. Ooh, since you’re mortal right now, be super careful around sharp things too!”

Lucifer eyed the abandoned carousel with half its horses broken in half on their left. “I am going to write my trousers off as a loss from the off. I feel like if I were truly mortal, I’d need penicillin just from staring at things here.”

“You’re not embracing this opportunity.”

“You took me to an abandoned park, Beatrice. I was not one for roller coasters to begin with.” He smirked, thinking of the last time he’d been near one. To be fair, he was assuredly a fan of watching Daniel suffer on one. “Well, I love to blackmail people with pictures of them screaming on them.”  


She slapped his arm. “Dude, so that’s where that lime green piece of crap came from. Mom has it and yanks it out whenever she wants to win a fight with Dad. It’s hideous.”

“They were quite my pride and joy. There was a banner too.” He frowned as they stopped in front of a Dad-awful statue of a clown. Actually that would be an overstatement. This was a giant red, white, and blue-eyed clown head with a gaping jaw. “Do I want to know why we’re stalling here.”

Beatrice slipped off her backpack and pulled out a crowbar. “Look, my whole you can hang out at Six Flags---”

“You mean a flooded post natural disaster nightmare, ta ever so.”  


“Luci, just give it a shot. I’m not saying ride the rides.”

“Clearly, they won’t move. If they did, well, I’m not immortal currently and it would be a terrible way to return to Hell. Too embarrassing to admit to my former subjects I broke my neck with a roller coaster car jumped a track.” He sighed and smirked. “What is it you want me to do, child?”

“You need to get your rage out in a healthy way.”

“Is this an exercise from post-Malcolm therapy as well?”

“No, my abuelo had me take up a bit of just kickboxing stuff when I moved to Texas. I was super pissed about the move so he figured he’d tire me out by having me hit an old bag in his garage. It worked, honestly. Every time Mom and I had a fight, I hit the bag.” She shrugged and taking a huge swing back, sent the crowbar crashing into the clown. It shuddered with her hit but didn’t crack. He hadn’t expected it to. “You can’t just ruin your balcony and your bar and your piano and---”

“I can see the pattern.”

“And all your shit!”

“I can replace it.”

“So, not the point.” She said, winding up and hitting the clown in its big, fat nose. “There are tons of shit for you to tear apart to your heart’s content if you’re having a bad night. You can shred anything you want, and no one is ever gonna know the difference. Then, bonus, your own stuff is fine!”

He sighed but inched toward the clown head. “Urchin, about the piano---”

“I assumed some of that was just trying and…well there’s a new one now and it’s pretty and maybe not shred the fall board and the top because you’re pissed?” She winked at him, the cheeky girl. “Also, maybe don’t throw your twin brother into it next time?”

“Fair point, well made, spawn. I just…so this is part of your solution?”

“It’s mostly to preserve your apartment and get you some fresh air. Two birds, totes one stone.” She swung again. “Besides, you might be the Devil.”  


“Definitely am. I should have cards made.”

“But clowns are evil incarnate.”

He laughed and it felt good for once, to just throw his head back at the ridiculousness of it all. “I cannot argue that, even before _It_ came along.” He smirked at her and raised an arm eye. Lucifer brought it down with a speed so fast he knew that the urchin couldn’t have followed the movement. His claws did far more damage than her crowbar and the fiber glass of the nose came off easily with each stroke. Lucifer wasn’t sure if the lack of nose was an improvement or not, but it felt good, felt _right_ to finally have something to shove his rage onto that wasn’t himself.

And his Father was too far away to only _He_ knew where to reach.

Lucifer reached back again and swiped hard at the clown’s gaping maw. It’s lower lip fell to the concrete with a satisfying crash. He thought of Michael’s truths and his Father’s machinations and swiped one last time, gouging out one, bulbous blue eye.

Soft hands were on his right arm, even as he pulled it back for a fourth time. He turned and looked back at Beatrice who was smiling, even if the expression was a bit watery, up at him. “Hey, you don’t have to trash the park in one night, Luci. Pace it out?”

He nodded and let his wings spread out wide, relaxing as the breeze swept up under them. Lucifer never let them out, not really. He didn’t want to, mostly because they were such abominations, but he had kept them pinned back so much and always worked to hide them. All day, every day. It felt nice to let them stretch. Beatrice, for her part, didn’t react one way or the other to them, and he was grateful for her. Grateful for Maze, who never listened, and had shown the urchin far too much at a young age.

She was infernal-proof.

“I can do that,” he conceded. “I don’t suppose there are games of chance to play. Wouldn’t want a soggy, rat infested cupie doll anyway, would you, child?”

“Um, no. I’m good on that front. If any are left, they’re probably all mold, you know?” She took his arm again and walked with him through the abandoned thorough fares of the park. It struck him then that the spawn had cased the joint, knew exactly what laid out before them, and had planned the night, such as it was, for him. “There’s a Ferris Wheel up ahead. It doesn’t turn, but I thought maybe we could just sit and enjoy the whole view thing?”

“Did you now?” He stretched his wings out as far as they could spread. “Urchin, I won’t…”

She nodded toward the massive iron of the Ferris Wheel as they came to it. At one point, Lucifer was certain it had been a sunny yellow, but most of that paint had chipped and bleached in the sun. “I think you could maybe…I dunno, if you took the flat top off, it would work right?”

He considered it. “It won’t go around.”

“No, but it could be a nice view!”

The things she wheedled him into. He flapped a few times, still not quite sued to the way the leathery appendages work. They were no less strong than his feathered ones but felt so very different. The way the air tickled his skin and he felt every current shiver over it. It was easy to reach the top car and to hold tightly to the frame with one hand while and brace his legs against it while he tore the top off.

“Beatrice! Keep a look out, yeah?” he said, letting it drop to the ground. It clattered yards from the urchin, who was still smart enough to scurry away to the left of the Ferris Wheel altogether.

He dove back down and arched a scarred eyebrow ridge at her. His amusement bubbled through, and he felt his eyes grow brighter with Hellfire. She matched his grin with a conspiratorial one of her own.

“Can I get a lift? I’m not going to climb my way up. Parkour is so not my thing.”

Lucifer nodded and held his arms out low. He spread his palms out as flat as he could and waited for her to climb carefully into them. “Careful of the claws, please, urchin. I’d relish getting through a day when neither of us need an ER visit.”

She settled in his arms and then wrapped her own around his neck. “I trust you.”

He shook his head. “You definitely shouldn’t.”

“I don’t trust you not to flounce.”

“How dare you---”

“Oh, you do and worse than half my sisters,” she replied. “But I do trust you to protect me.”

“Always, urchin,” he said with a sigh. With a great flap of his wings, he took off again and, though like before, landing wasn’t quite his specialty---so it had been eons since he’d had a chance to really fly, so sue him---he managed to get them both in to the car without anything being bruised or broken. “Pardon the landing.”

“I’m not giving you five stars on your Uber review.”

“I figured. I don’t come with a bottle of water either.”

“You are warm though,” she said, burrowing into his side in the somewhat tight confounds of the car. He couldn’t shove his wings against his back then and, honestly, had little interest in it. Instead, he draped one over the car’s side and the other over Beatrice. She chuckled. “Maybe I shouldn’t have brought a jacket. You’re very warm and it’s getting closer to spring.”

He paused then. “I can take it back.”

  
“Nah, just wow like a heating pad. Pretty sweet deal.”

“Yes, again, boil down ancient cosmic powers to your convenience, urchin.”

She sighed and looked up at the stars. Out here in the ruin of the park, one could see them all. Beatrice set her lantern on her lap and turned it on. He understood that. Even with the Devil by her side, his charge feared the dark. They all did. “You really made all of that.”

“Yes, that was on my own most of the time. Lucifer means---”

“‘Lightbringer,’ I know.” She winked at him. “Catechism and, well, maybe some books.”

“Oh, urchin, don’t tell me you’ve been reading that libelous tripe. _The Divine Comedy _is full of errors.”

“Is _Paradise Lost_ better?”

“Hardly, but yes, I made them. I am rather glad you like them.”

“Did you make Mars?”

Lucifer would have blushed if he still could. As it was his eyes flared brighter and he turned his head away. “That, honestly, was a team effort that time. But I wanted it to be red. That was assuredly my idea.”  


“Is it pretty?”  


“I always preferred Saturn myself. The rings were an inspired stroke of genius if I do say so myself.” He smirked at her. “That said, I do like Uranus as well.”

She groaned. “You’re twelve! I knew it!”

“Perhaps, but I could not resist low hanging fruit.”

“Well, it’s nice somehow to know that I’m more mature than Satan. It’s somehow an ego booster.”

“Do you still wish to be a doctor?”  


“Yeah, I just…the kind of math you have to do to be an astronaut plus the odds that we’d ever get to Mars, so not great. Besides, I know what it’s like to be stuck in the ER, scared if you’re parents are gonna be okay. That’s all I want…to be there for someone else who’s scared and alone.”

“A noble intention.”

“I’m full of virtue.”

He laughed again. “You broke in and vandalized an amusement park with the Devil. I’m not sure if virtue is exactly what you’re brimming with, urchin.”

“Maybe, but…yeah, I really do. I have this cool internship I’m interviewing for next week, actually.”  


“What specialty?”

“Oh, I can’t say. It’s a surprise,” she said, bumping his shoulder. “Okay, so playing ‘never have I ever’ with the Devil is both pointless, and it would scar me too much.”

“I do have excellent stories.”

“How many are only PG-13 or below?”

He sighed.

She had a point. His best stories were mostly too awkward to share with the child, true. Although there were some from even before the Rebellion that were almost peaceful. And, sometimes, he’d gone to Earth and done more than enjoy the pleasure of an orgy (not that such a pleasure wasn’t worthwhile). But, yes, he’d also seen plays and performances, watched history unfold in small chunks at a time. Met people who had mattered, though none as much as the two miracles or Miss Lopez and Dr. Linda.

“Not as many as you’d like, but more than you’d think. So that game is out, I presume.”

“Yeah, but, okay, I want to trade.”

“Do tell?” he asked, always intrigued by an even exchange, and he wondered if his Father had done that to him too. After Michael’s proclamation, he wondered now if so many of the things he loved and did and _were_ had been dictated to an invasive level by _Him_. Lucifer was sure he’d never know, and it was madness to try and suss it out on his own. Paranoia-inducing. So, he tried to focus on the here and now and nodded to the urchin. “What do you have in mind.”

“You have to tell me something---and dear, uh, universe keep it PG-13 or under---that you’ve never told anyone else before, and I’ll do the same.”

“Well, I didn’t know I was suddenly going to be at a slumber party.”

She punched his shoulder, and he rolled with the motion. Miracle or not, the spawn some day needed to learn not to mess with the big bads out there. Only fools punched the Devil. “It’s not. I just…come on, I’ll start. So, the year before we went to Texas, uh, well---”

“The crappy year with Cain running amok?”

“Yeah, well, I got really good at using my mom’s phone and always could watch her and figure out her passcodes.”

“You little minx.”  


“So, I Uber’ed to _Lux_. Eventually, I ended up in the bar part and Maze drove me home. But I did sneak up to your place and see your princess steps to your bedroom.”

“They were not!”

“Oh, so totally. And, well, I might have dug into your drawers cause I was like nine-ish and curious.”

“Yes, you never pry your nose where it doesn’t belong, ever now.”

“Ouch, that’s a burn there, Satan.”

“But of course,” he said, winking at her. “I’m a master of all heat and flame.” He chuckled and his right wing thumped a bit against the car. “That was quite risky of you, child. What did you find?”

“Oh, I don’t remember all of it and I was too young, thank uh whoever, to realize if I did find something ugh. But in one drawer I found this cool old necklace with a scarab beetle on it in like obsidian or something? I took it home.” She blushed, and he could see it even in the near darkness with his eyes. “I still have it.”

“You scamp! That was given to me by Cleopatra. Have you any idea what it’s worth?”

“Holy shit, no way. Ugh, did you?”  


“Don’t be ridiculous. We were friends. Where do you think I learned about the benefits of eyeliner?”

“Good, someone from history you didn’t sc---”

“Now, Antony on the other hand…”

“You, Luci, are the world’s most well-whatevered slut.”

He winked again. “I have had fun in my time, child, and perhaps, it was wise.” His body shuddered and his spines hit against the metal of the car behind them. Involuntary shiver, and Luci turned his head away and from her sharp eyes. “It shall have to be enough to keep me for a long while. Perhaps, ever.”  


“I don’t believe that. I think we _can_ figure this out.”  


“I don’t…”

“Your Father can’t stay mad forever even.”

“Oh, I assure you that he can,” he said, looking back at her. “Now, spawn, keep the necklace. But if you ever want to offload it, do me a favor and take it to a museum for appraisal. Their eyes will get so very wide.”  


“I bet.” She shoved against his side a bit. “Alright, your turn. What don’t I know?”

He sighed and looked down at the lantern shining brightly on her lap. “I came to see you.”  


“Huh? And ominous.”

“I…I was worried after Cain was…after I _murdered_ him, that the Sinnerman’s network of contacts would come still for you and your mother. I wasn’t like this,” he added, since it would confuse her a bit. His current form was many things, but discreet wasn’t one of them. “My face wouldn’t change back, and my wings…they weren’t like this but the feathers were so very ravaged by the shots I’d taken for your mother at that ambush. I could use them, put them away, but it burned my back and shoulders like the fires of Hell, itself. But I came, every night, I snuck into your room---I didn’t dare go near your mum. I knew she’d figure it out. But I did come, and I’d sit in the corner at your tiny desk, quite the struggle to fold my legs up enough to be there, and I’d actually get pins and needles with you and your mum present. Still, I watched.”

“And you stopped after you and Mom fought and of course, we went away?”

“I stopped because your mother figured it out. I think my phone sounded for a text. It was the day after she came to my penthouse in the day and we fought then.”  


“Oh, I just assumed you fought at the crime scene before the SWAT team got there. I didn’t know…” she frowned. “What happened after?”

“Your mother told me in no uncertain terms where to go, and the next day, I woke up like this.”

Beatrice frowned. He could tell she wanted to say something else to prod about the worst day of his life even above the day he lost the Rebellion, but she didn’t press, just seemed to file things away like the girl raised by detectives she was. Like the scientist she was going to grow into.

“Every night?”

“I was worried that the Sinnerman would have underlings in place to take revenge. It was not an unfounded fear. He had many accomplices he’d groomed since childhood for their ranks in his organization. I was---” He sighed. “I am as my Father _made me_, and I did not wish any ill to come to you or to your mother. I just was so very worried.”

“I’m sorry your Dad sucks.”

He laughed bitterly. “As am I, urchin.” Reaching out carefully, he patted her head. “Maybe I should have figured all of this out sooner, but, no, if I can help it, nothing bad will happen to you or to her. I suppose I’ll have to add your father into that too, should I ever be back in Austin.”

“Thanks…so every night?”

“Yes, your room was quite lovely if you were a nine-year-old girl. It didn’t fit the needs of a six-foot-plus fellow.”

“Well, it’s probably selfish of me, but I’m thankful you did that. I mean, I guess no Sinnerman guys came.”

“I would not say that exactly.”

“Luci!”

“The second week I heard heavy boots outside your window. I promise you that the two men who came for you, well, they are locked away in a sanitarium. Blubbering messes who still rant about Satan. I had Maze check on them recently, just out of idle curiosity.”

The urchin’s eyes grew shiny and, like she tended to do, she grabbed him tightly in a tight squeezed that would make an anaconda envious. Lucifer sighed and pretended that he hated it. But she’d been doing this to him since he’d first met her and, frankly, it was the only contact he received. He missed it, and it felt like coming home, which was doubly odd because he’d never really had one.

“You saved me even then?”

“They were not Cain’s smartest underlings. It was hardly a challenge.” It was not without a swipe to his side that had taken till morning and when he could slip away from the Detective’s home to heal. But it was _not _a hardship so not technically a lie.

She pulled back and grinned up at him. “See, just like I was telling you. You’re a good person, Luci. I…thank you for always keeping an eye on me.”

“I wouldn’t say---”

“Just take the compliment for once,” she said, glaring up at him, her chin held high and defiant.

He nodded and for once, let him take a small bit of pride in her words. Humans were no challenge, especially scaring them into submission when he couldn’t put his face away (a preview of things to come), but it meant so much to her and her could be proud of that. But mostly just grateful he’d been able to help her even then.

And for a moment, he swore he felt the heat drain from his gaze.

Beatrice’s own eyes went wide, and she squirmed under his wing till he lifted it.

“Urchin, what’s wrong?”

“I just…you won’t believe me. I need my phone. She whipped it out fast and clicked a few pictures in his face. He blinked and grumbled at the flash focused on him.”

“Well, thank you for possibly blinding me, spawn. I can’t tell you how very much I appreciate it.”

“No, you goof,” she said, about to hand her new phone to him but clearly thinking better of it. “I…let me handle it.”  


“Advisable,” he replied, still confused about her sudden excitement.

Beatrice flicked to the picture files on her phone, and he frowned at the images of himself. He hadn’t seen any of it in years, and it stung fresh---that red, charred flesh. But he frowned as he focused on his eyes in the picture. They weren’t…

They couldn’t have been brown, could they?

“Did you filter these?”

“No, Luci, so didn’t have time. I…fuck, they’re hellfire again, but I swear for at least a minute they were like _that_.”

He quirked his head back at the urchin and frowned. “I don’t understand. They’ve never---”  


“Well, I told you we could figure this out, and I’m going to, damn it.”

“Kind of the opposite actually.”

“I’m going to figure this out,” Beatrice corrected. “Like I said, if you have a few angels in your court and even an asshole wizard and a miracle.”

“John-O’s a warlock and he thoroughly hates yours truly.”

“Meh, he can be negotiated with.”  


He smirked. The spawn could be ruthless, and he quite liked that about her. “I…it’s not just wishful thinking. We might be able to fix this after all.”

And he was pretty sure his voice wasn’t wavering. Nope, not at all.

Beatrice nodded and hugged him again, and she didn’t let go for at least a minute, and he might, just a little both hated _Buzzfeed_ and loved the site for publishing that article. “I said that, and you should listen to me because I’m a miracle.”

“You’re really never going to let me forget that part.”

“Nope.”


End file.
